


You Should See Me In A Crown

by jnic84



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/M, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Apocalypse, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-25 22:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnic84/pseuds/jnic84
Summary: You can see the future, but you didn’t see this coming.





	1. One

You Should See Me In A Crown

Fandom: American Horror Story

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: You can see the future, but you didn’t see this coming.

Notes: In this story, Queenie never got trapped in the Cortez.

 

 

1: 

You struggled to concentrate as Zoe presided over the day’s lesson. Changing the color of flower petals wasn’t particularly tricky but the white of your rose was slow to blossom into a deep red as your focus waned.

Hearing your name, your head jerked up to see Cordelia looking at you with concern.

“Come with me for a moment, please,” the Supreme entreated. You licked your lips nervously and stood, ignoring the curious eyes of your fellow witches.

Cordelia tried to smile reassuringly but it appeared strained.

You followed her silently to her study upstairs.

“Take a seat,” Cordelia gestured kindly before sitting almost primly across from you. Your hands twisted anxiously in your lap. “You look tired,” she frowned.

“I—didn’t sleep well. Again,” you admitted, glancing away from the blonde woman’s worried gaze.

“The same dreams?” she failed to hide the deep unease she felt.

“Yes,” you sighed.

You never thought you’d say this, but you were beginning to feel envious of Coco and her powers. While gluten detection and calorie counting might not be all that impressive, it was infinitely better than having the Sight.

Girls always told you they were covetous of your ability, but only Cordelia knew the true misery unique to those who see the future.

Far too often your visions were incomplete and confusing. And when they were more coherent, they weren’t always comforting. There was little pleasure in seeing the future, watching the people you cared for suffer, knowing there was no way to change it.

You and Cordelia always tried to fix things. Make plans to thwart the fate you saw so unwillingly. But you always failed. One day you would accept that things were meant to happen, whether you liked it or not.

That day had yet to come.

The dreams started a year before. It was unusual for you to have visions as you slept. Normally the Sight manifested itself when you touched things, or saw something that triggered your power. But whatever these visions were, they were more than the usual glimpse into the future.

They felt like a warning. And like destiny.

It started with fire.

You remembered the feeling of being surrounded by flames. The suffocating stench of smoke. Not being able to see past your outstretched hand for all the haze and darkness.

In time came the bodies.

First was Queenie, then Zoe. Then you saw Cordelia, the most powerful woman you knew, being torn apart by men. But they weren’t men anymore. They had become twisted and mutated. And all the while he stood watch, laughing at their pain.

The white-faced demon.

You tried to keep your dreams to yourself, even as they grew more disturbing. But they were so overwhelming. It didn’t take a vision for Cordelia to see something was wrong.

When you finally admitted what was keeping you up at night, Cordelia’s face had drained of its color.

You recalled heading downstairs for dinner that night and seeing Cordelia in the background amongst all the girls, conversing in hushed whispers with Myrtle Snow.

And then the visions began to change once more.

The raging fire was replaced by candlelight. The smoke-heavy air became stale but clean. And there was a man.

His golden hair shone in the dancing flames. His hands stood out in your mind, fingers long and elegant, bedecked with large jewels. And his eyes, such a piercing blue.

His presence dominated your senses. You could practically smell the malevolence that surrounded him. But all you could focus on was the emotions coursing through you at the sight of him.

You felt powerful, invincible. And at the feel of his hands skimming your body, undeniable lust.

You didn’t know how the disparate images came together. But the overall picture was extremely worrying.

“Was he there?” Cordelia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“He wasn’t alone,” you confided. “There was a woman. Short, black hair. She felt—wrong. A person, but not.”

“Could she be possessed?” Cordelia wondered, already thinking of ways to save this strange woman from such an awful fate. But there was no need.

“She’s not possessed,” you shook your head. “She looks like a person but she’s just…missing something. She feels empty.”

That stopped your mentor short. Without a soul, a body was nothing. Just meat and bone. There was no life without that spark.

Whatever thought she had was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

Zoe stepped inside after Cordelia’s soft, “Come in.”

Cordelia crooked her head at Zoe’s almost sheepish posture. “What is it?” she asked curiously.

“The Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men,” Zoe announces awkwardly. “They called an emergency council.”

You were both taken aback. It was a rare day indeed when warlocks thought to order witches around.

“We’re obliged to get on a plane immediately,” Myrtle announced as she breezed into the study. “Airline food for lunch when I made reservations at Galatoires,” she, “it’s just too cruel.”

You shared a troubled glance with your Supreme, but ultimately the decision was made for you. Tradition must be upheld.

Cordelia stood, pasting on a patently false smile. “Well then I suppose we should all pack.”

Zoe and Myrtle nodded, the redhead huffing in defeat as they strode to their bedrooms. You made to leave Cordelia to her packing but she stopped you with a gentle hand on your elbow.

“You will be joining us,” she announced, much to your surprise. You opened your mouth to question her, but she squeezed your arm understandingly.

“Something is coming,” she professed. “And you might be our best hope of discovering what it is.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for what’s going to happen,” you confessed. Cordelia gave you a shaky smile and pulled you into a long hug.

“No one is ever ready,” she said resignedly. “But the future waits for no one. And it won’t take us unaware. We will confront it head on. As a coven.”

She stepped back, taking your face in her hands. “You are never alone.”

Her reassurance brought the beginnings of tears to your eyes.

“Now,” Cordelia straightened, “Come on. We have a plane to catch.” 

________________

 

“Illustrious members, I want to thank you for coming and giving us the opportunity to share with you what we've discovered,” the head of the Hawthorne School offered his obviously practiced greeting. 

Myrtle was entirely unimpressed.

None of the men in front you looked happy to be in the company of their Supreme. It was no secret that the warlocks hated having to take their orders from women more powerful than they would ever be.

You wondered why they bothered to summon you if they detested your very existence like this.

“We recently took in a boy here at the school,” he continued, aware his audience was merely humoring him. It didn’t take a mind reader to tell he resented the presence of witches in his school.

“At first, we thought he was simply one of us, a warlock who needed our help and training. But the things he did were extraordinary, and after conducting the requisite test of his powers, we came to the conclusion that his abilities are so impressive that they rise to the level of Supreme.”

There was a deathly quiet silence at his proclamation. Cordelia was unamused. Myrtle, on the other hand, was highly amused.

“Did you say this was a boy,” she scoffed. “As in male?”

You could see Zoe out of the corner your eye looking to you in disbelief but you found yourself ignoring her unintentionally.

This place felt…familiar.

The light was dim, the décor distinctly masculine yet ostentatious. The air was charged, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the tension in the room or some unknown force.

Cordelia however was not distracted, and she didn’t take kindly to the implication that a mere boy was about to take her place.

“Ariel, you actually believe this?” she cautioned him.

“We wouldn't have summoned the council otherwise,” he argued defiantly. The men at his side presenting a united front.

“In all recorded history, no man has ever approached the level of Supreme,” she reminded them with a hint of condescension.

“Men are simply not equal to women when it comes to magical ability.”

“Not to mention everything else,” Myrtle muttered as Cordelia smothered a tiny grin.

“Testosterone is a known inhibitor,” Cordelia recited as if she was teaching a small child. “It impedes access to the ethereal realm. Frankly, I question your judgment by calling us here for this.”

“You're not even hearing us out,” Ariel shouted in frustration, but Cordelia cut him off swiftly.

“There's nothing to hear. There will never be a male Supreme,” she stated resolutely. “It will simply never happen.”

“Listen to yourselves,” Ariel spat. “You say that something hasn't happened, so therefore it can never happen!”

He took a second to compose himself.

“We want you to administer the test of the Seven Wonders,” Ariel announced boldly, and you were brought back to the moment at Cordelia’s sharp denial.

“That is out of the question.”

“Why?” He demanded to know, and you could see the pain in the Supreme’s eyes.

“Because I'd be condemning this boy to his death,” she said solemnly. “I lost some of my most promising witches by sanctioning tests before their time.”

You knew her thoughts were drifting to Misty, even Madison, and the regret that she felt for her part in their deaths. “I won't make that mistake again.”

“Why do you get to decide that?” One of the others sneered.

“Because I'm the fucking Supreme.” Even you were surprised by the vehemence in her voice. Ariel wasn’t content to remain silent though.

“No, you're just a scared bigot,” he accused with a condescending rake of his eyes.

“Scared of what?” Myrtle chuckled in derision.

“Of the Alpha,” Ariel puffed out his chest proudly. “Of a man rising to the level of Supreme. Of an end to ages of female dominance. I'm telling you,” he warned ominously, “that time has come.”

“And your time is up,” Cordelia declared with finality. “This council is closed.”

There was a raucous noise coming from the men in the room but you all took your cue from Cordelia who had turned wordlessly on her heel, striding out of the meeting room.

None of you spoke as you entered the elevator. You and Zoe did your best to ignore the hateful glares of the men who gathered to watch you leave. Myrtle was too incensed at their presumption and Cordelia too caught up in her dark thoughts to prepare for what happened next.

For as you all stepped from the elevator and back into the world, your steps faltered as you spotted the unexpected form of Madison Montgomery.

Cordelia fell into a dead faint.

Myrtle and Zoe crowded around her, but you remained glued to the spot.

Because standing next to Madison, cape blowing in the breeze, was a handsome young man you didn’t immediately recognize.

His lips were turned up in a smug smirk as he turned and met your gaze. Your heart raced as he took notice and began to study you intently.

In your peripheral vision you could see Madison hesitantly picking up her pace as she approached Cordelia.

You should have joined the reunion but couldn’t turn away from the picture he made. He stood tall, gaze piercing, his very aura giving off a sense of immense power.

But none of that mattered to you at the moment. You couldn’t comprehend anything past his angelic golden curls and a pair of hauntingly familiar blue eyes.


	2. Part Two

2:

 

You stared at Cordelia, willing her to wake up.

The warlocks had gathered around her prone body after the Supreme fainted rather dramatically. Not that she didn’t have good reason to; it wasn’t every day a dead student came strolling back into your lives. 

And Michael—that was his name, Michael Langdon. He looked so…pleased. 

John Henry helped carry Cordelia back inside. For a moment in the elevator everyone stood silent.

“How?”

“I wanted to get your attention,” Michael stated boldly when Myrtle finally managed to find the words. 

He succeeded.

The men had left you all to your reunion, unable to hide their enthusiasm at Michael’s display of power. Only John Henry showed some reservation. The others were too consumed by the very thought that the Alpha had arisen. That true power was nearly in their grasp. 

You let out a sharp breath of relief when you saw Cordelia’s eyes begin to flutter. Myrtle continued to stroke her hair as Zoe hovered nervously and Madison stared impatiently. 

Cordelia came awake with a gasp and upon seeing Madison she murmured, “It wasn’t a dream.” 

Before any of you could react, she stood, pulling Madison into a tight hug.

“Maybe you forgot,” Madison croaked, “I’m not much of a hugger.”

“You’re alive,” Cordelia whispered, voice watery from unshed tears. 

She pulled back, stroking the young girl’s face reverently. 

“The boy,” Cordelia began, causing you to tense and Myrtle to grimace. 

“He is with those presumptuous charlatans,” Myrtle sniffed. 

“I need to see him,” she declared, much to the redhead’s dismay. 

“Cordelia—” 

“I had a vision,” she stopped all of your protests. 

Her eyes fell on you and your breath came quick and shaky. 

“For months our sister has dreamt of our destruction,” she revealed as Zoe turned to you in concern. “And now I have seen it myself. It is no dream.” Cordelia looked to Myrtle, “I must see the boy.”

“So be it,” Myrtle said in resignation. “To the lion’s den,” she murmured as she took Madison’s arm, then Zoe’s, and led them out of the study. 

“Cordelia—,” you stopped the blonde with a hand on her elbow. She gazed down at you sympathetically.

“I’m sorry,” she offered graciously, “I should have known. The Sight would not be so fickle as to bend to imagination. He is real—the white-faced demon.”

You swallowed nervously. 

“You saw him too?” You gnawed on your bottom lip fearfully. 

“I saw him gleefully destroy us all,” she admitted, eyes glazed as she mentally revisited the scene in her mind. 

“I will not see you girls hurt,” Cordelia was resolved as she gripped your arms reassuringly. 

“My inaction has kept us on this path,” the guilt clear in her voice. “But I am not my mother. I will not allow my own selfishness get in the way of your safety.

“I…I am losing strength,” she confessed, and it felt like a physical blow to your stomach. “The Sight…I am not enough to stop what’s coming. I know that now. But if there’s a chance, if Ariel is right, if Michael is the new Supreme—”

“No,” you interrupted her sharply. “Michael, he can’t—he’s not the one to lead us. He’s not you. I, when I saw him just now,” your babbling got Cordelia’s attention and her hands rubbed soothingly up and down your arms to calm you.

“I felt,” you struggled to put your feelings into words. “Something inside me is drawn to him. My power—everything, it reacts to him. Like there is something inside me, demanding to be heard. It’s not right, it’s not—natural,” you pled.

Cordelia smiled sadly, leaning forward and resting her forehead against yours. “That kind of response,” she considered solemnly, “it is wholly natural but unbelievably rare. Oh my girls,” she crooned sweetly, “you all have so much to learn.” 

You were all confusion as she took a small step back. 

“There are times when two souls are bound so tightly together that they recognize each other before our selves do. Michael is…extraordinarily gifted. And you,” she confided, “your power is growing every day. Your visions are more powerful than my own. It is possible that you are—connected.”

Cordelia frowned, “I haven’t experienced anything like you describe. I don’t know if I’d even wish to. People think of it as Soulmates. Such a trite word. But feelings are just that—feelings. You need never act upon them.

“You will see,” she grinned in determination, “we will not simply succumb to fate. Our destiny is ours to create. You’ve seen it, so have I, what fate has in store for our coven. I will see that it never comes to pass.

“Whatever your connection to Michael, you are free to make your own decisions. As am I.” Cordelia’s smile faded as she forced herself to stand tall, her gaze shifting to the closed door and the men waiting beyond it.

The Supreme strode past you, not looking for a moment as if her power was fading, and you found yourself following in her shadow. You only hoped to portray a mere hint of the confidence that she exuded.

 

You rejoined the members of your coven who looked rather dour in the face of the smug faces of the warlocks. 

Michael stood beside Ariel, appearing deceptively innocent and far too happy with himself. 

His eyes flicked to you but you kept yours locked on Cordelia. Whatever this supposed connection was, Cordelia has assured you it was entirely your decision whether or not to acknowledge it. And in this moment, as your Supreme stood weakened and the end drew near, the last thing you cared to think about was some cosmic link to a mysterious boy. 

Eventually Michael gave up, turning his attention to her as well. 

She gifted him with a genuine smile and he practically preened. 

“I want to thank you for bringing her back.” Ariel patted Michael on the back, all the while wearing a shit-eating grin. Michael ducked his head in appreciation. 

“I’ve been presented with something,” she continued, “A vision.”

Her hand reached out blindly, finding Zoe’s and holding it tight. 

“I believe I saw the future. A terrifying future.” Michael remained stoic at such a revelation, but John Henry fidgeted anxiously. “Cataclysm. Fire. Death. I saw a man, but not a man. A white face. Demonic. He was laughing. Our academy, sisters, I saw it reduced to cinders.”

Myrtle looked ill at the thought.

“A warning.” Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. “But something in my blood is telling me that the only hope we have of surviving depends on what I do next.”

Michael perked up, and you watched closely as his muscles bunched slightly in anticipation.

“In two weeks time, at the rise of the Blood Moon, you will take the test of the Seven Wonders.”

The shouting was instantaneous, from both sides. 

Ariel, Baldwin, and Behold were unable to hide their elation. Michael appeared studiously humble. Myrtle, on the other hand, was furious.

“Cordelia, this isn’t done!” she cried, but the Supreme merely shook her head. 

“I’ve made up my mind.”

And that was that. There was no swaying her. It was shortly after that you left Hawthorne’s, and the rather intense gaze of Michael Langdon.

Myrtle tried her best to reason with Cordelia on the car ride to the airport, on the plane, even as you all walked into the house in Louisiana. But there was no changing course. 

Cordelia was determined to alter the course of the future. You hoped she was doing the right thing. Still, you dreaded the thought of sleep that night and what things you might see. 

But Cordelia was the Supreme, you tried to comfort yourself, and it didn’t do well to dwell on dreams. 

 

 

As the girls settled into bed, night had only just begun in California. 

It wasn’t difficult for Michael to sneak out of Hawthorne’s. His teachers were too busy congratulating themselves on their supposed victory over Cordelia Goode to even notice he was gone.

John Henry and his determination to find proof of Michael’s nefarious intentions was only a minor bump in the road. And one that had hopefully been handled.

Looking off into the tree line, he beamed when he saw her waiting in the shadows. He took off running, letting out a delighted giggle when she was finally close enough to pull into a big hug.

“Oh, my dear boy,” Miriam Mead cooed as she smothered him in a motherly embrace. 

“Oh! Oh, look at you. You're skin and bones,” she tsked, standing back to take in the sight of him. “You're wasting away. Don't these people feed you?”

“I'm fine,” Michael assured her, basking in her presence before his mood shifted. “Just tell me you took care of the problem.” 

“The problem,” she smirked, “is now a stack of overcooked country barbecue. They can bury him in a shoebox.”

“Good,” he was relieved. John Henry was a potential roadblock that had needed to be dealt with. She was the only person he truly had faith in to accomplish the task. “These people are the only ones who could pose a threat to me. Once I become Supreme, I can destroy them from within, eliminate their whole fucking coven. Then the road will be clear for me to do what I was born to do.”

“So stop worrying,” Mead chided. “Look how easy it was for you to win their trust, to get into their school. They may be wizards, but they're not exactly wizzes. Everything is going beautifully.”

“I still have to pass the Seven Wonders,” he reminded her, and she rolled her eyes. He envied the faith she had in him. There were days when doubt plagued him, but Ms. Mead was relentlessly optimistic. In her eyes, he could do no wrong.

“You will own the Seven Wonders, and then all of their covens, and then the world.” Michael smiled from ear to ear at her unwavering certainty.

His mind strayed for a moment and then he graced her with a thoroughly pleased half smile.

“I saw her today,” he mused. “With the other witches. She wanted to come to me, I could feel it, but she fought the instinct.”

Miriam clapped her hands in delight. “Give it time,” she reminded him. “She’s spent too much time with that Supreme of hers. She doesn’t know her place. At your side,” she declared proudly, smoothing down the collar of his shirt. It was only a matter of time until he found her. The one who would help him usher in a new age and a new world made in his father’s image. The girl didn’t know how special she was, the honor that had been bestowed on her. But it was only a matter of time. Michael would become Supreme and all would fall into place.

“What would I do without you?” he sighed contentedly, wishing he shared her complete conviction. 

Mead pinched his cheek teasingly, the happiest she had ever been. “Now that’s something you’ll never have to worry about.”


End file.
